Don't Read in the Closet volume one (101 page)

"Oh!"
Sam gasped and shifted his weight back and Trevor slid his tongue in deeper as
he reached around and wrapped his hand around the hard prick hanging there.
"Oh, fuck," Sam groaned, his hips jerking forward into his hand, then
back against his mouth, sliding his dick into Trevor's hand without him having
to do much work. He continued making delicious noises as Trevor fucked him with
his tongue, spreading the pre-come that dripped from Sam’s tip as his fingers
swiped over the head.

"Oh
fuck!" Sam pushed back into Trevor, squashing his nose and nearly throwing
him off balance. He grunted, pulling his mouth away and swatting Sam's thigh
lightly before sitting himself up and lubing his fingers with spit.

"Sorry."
Sam at least sounded apologetic, even as he continued fucking himself on
Trevor's hand with frenetic noises. "But, you...ohgodyes," he moaned
as Trevor shoved two wet fingers in, stretching the ring of muscles.

"I
what?"

"No.
Idea."

Trevor's laugh
was throaty as he pushed the fingers deeper and sought out his prostate. Sam
nearly squeaked when he found it, and that just made Trevor smile more, leaving
kisses on his lower back. He kept pushing Sam higher and higher until he could
feel the muscles quiver on the edge; he stopped stroking his cock, squeezing
the base almost painfully as he sat up on his knees. "Get up."

"I
am," Sam mumbled before lifting his upper body and leaning back against
Trevor's. He couldn't help chuckling against the soft neck and the pounding
pulse, his tongue tracing the rhythm while his fingers worked the prostate just
as steadily, making Sam whimper in pain as his cock jolted out plenty of cum
without orgasming. "Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck." Sam's head fell back on
Trevor's shoulder, his hair sticking against their wet skin. "Please.
Ohgodplease."

"Please?"
Trevor whispered against his neck, nipping hard enough that Sam's hips jerked
and another spurt of cum dribbled out. "Rather selfish of you." He
rubbed his aching cock on Sam, wishing he'd thought to remove his pants before,
but enjoying the younger man's groans and whimpers as he removed his fingers.
"Shouldn't you think of me?"

"Then
fuck
me
, please!"

"Too
easy." He reached down between Sam's legs and grabbed his sack, squeezing
just hard enough to get a yelp, but not enough to do serious pain. Sam fell
forward onto his hands
again,
his back heaving with
his effort to breathe and Trevor hesitated, watching for a sign that he'd
pushed too hard. But instead he found that smooth ass pressing back against
him. He smiled, pulling his hand away slowly so just the fingertips lingered
before he pinched, making Sam's hips quiver in an uncontrollable thrust. Too beautiful
to wait. "I think it's my turn."

Sam looked over
his shoulder, his brown eyes dark with lust, nearly weeping with it.
"What," he croaked, then swallowed, wetting his lips to finish.
"What do you want me to do?"

He slid his
hand up Sam's body and down his arm, taking his hand and guiding him as Trevor
sprawled along the headboard, his legs open wide and his cock straining in its
prison. "Suck me. You can come when I do."

He'd never seen
someone move so fast, and before he could say another word, his cock was
released from his pants and sunk in wet heat. And suction. And little
whimpering vibrations that had him fisting his hand in Sam's hair and gasping
as he tried not to spill like a teenage boy. But Sam was needy and wanton and
motivated
.
Trevor’s hand controlled where he could go, but it didn't control what he could
do with his lips, his tongue, and his blessed
throat
. He wasn't sure
what Sam did, all he knew was that it shot up his cock, to his brain and
bounced back into his balls so he was holding that mouth in place and spilling
himself. Sam made pleased little noises as he swallowed, letting the spent cock
slip from his mouth, clean but for his saliva, before he collapsed between
Trevor’s legs.

"Fuck,
Sam."

He looked up
from his position and smiled, soft and languid. "Can you give me a
minute?"

Trevor laughed
and did one better, pulling Sam's limp body into his arms and cocooning them in
the blankets.

****

His bed was
empty when he woke several hours later. "Sam?" he mumbled, blinking
at the light filling his bedroom. A hand popped up from the far side of the bed
and Trevor army-crawled over. Sam was sitting slouched against the bed, his
arms perched on his thighs and tears freshly scrubbed from his face. "You
okay?"

He nodded,
wiping off the new batch that trickled from his eyes. "Fine."

"Yeah, I
noticed." He reached out, brushing away a droplet with his thumb. Sam
summoned a tenuous smile and coughed.

"Fuck."
He barked a laugh, scrubbing his cheeks. "I really am okay. I feel like an
idiot."

He wiggled
closer on the bed so he could wrap an arm over Sam's shoulder and across his
chest. "Why?"

"Oh, I
don't know, I broke your dishes, made you get rough with me, then break down
crying."

"Well, I
wouldn't say you
made
me get rough with you. I liked it too, you
know."

He leaned his
head back on Trevor's shoulder. "Then why wouldn't you fuck me
before?"

"I'm not a
one-night stand kind of guy, and I'm not the type to pick kids off the street
for a quickie either."

"So why
now?"

"I think I
figured you needed it as much as I did."

"Yeah.
Thanks." He gave another laugh as he wiped the tears still trailing from
his eyes. "Sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Eh, it's
okay to cry sometimes. It's cathartic."

"Cathartic
to break dishes, too?"

"Yes, but
you'll be repaying me for those."

"Unless
I'm paying you with sex, you're going to be waiting a while. You know I don't
have much. Unless you want to wipe my account clean."

"No, I
think I'm fine with waiting."

"Yeah?"

Trevor laughed,
burying his lips against the marks on Sam's shoulder. "Yeah, I'll
wait." He kissed the largest bite. "It's going to take a while to
find a job," another kiss, "and an apartment--"

"You're
going to kick me out?"

"No, just
assuming you wouldn't want to be a kept boy."

Sam snorted.
"I'd pay rent, um, if you want me."

"Sure, you
can stay then."

"Good."
He kissed Trevor's ear, his lips lingering before he whispered, "Thank
you."

Trevor smiled,
his hands sliding, one to Sam’s nipple and the other to his cock. "You are
very welcome."

THE END

Author bio:
Alex Whitehall is a wide-eyed babe in
the world of publishing, but without all the stinky diapers. E-mail [email protected]
or follow the blog
http://creative-whimsy.blogspot.com
or twitter
@AlexWhitehall.

Selected by Lisa Worrall

Dear Author,

These guys are radiating
love for each other
..
but it's entirely new for them
..
They have been best friends forever but this is their
first taste of each other
..

They were both straight
guys or so they thought they were!!

And after this wonderful
episode will they mark it as a once in a lifetime thing or will they confess
their undying love for each other and face the reality of their love.

They look so adorable
together!!

[PHOTO: On a beige couch two dark-haired,
shirtless men kiss, mouths open, eyes closed. The man above arches back and
supports himself on braced arms, so their hairless chests are held a whisper
apart. The man below grips his lover's bicep, and with the other hand curves
tentative fingers over his jeans-clad ass.]

Sincerely,

Desert

Genre:
contemporary

Tags:
GFY, Virgins, Friends to Lovers,
Cops

Words:
7,055

JUST ONE KISS

by Lisa Worrall

Matt lay awake,
watching the shadows from the tree outside his bedroom window play across the
ceiling, listening to the soft snuffling of the warm body curled around his. He
glanced down at the dark head resting on his shoulder and couldn’t help the
smile that curved his lips. The sleeping face beside him was so familiar, and
yet it was as though he was seeing it for the first time. How had they got
here? Where did they go from here? Did they sweep it under the carpet? Laugh it
off as a one-time thing, never to be mentioned again?

Matt sighed and
scrubbed a hand over his face, the movement causing the arm draped across his
waist to tighten in protest. He had no idea what they were supposed to do now –
what etiquette you were meant to follow after you had sex with your best
friend. Especially when
your
best friend was a guy and
you were both supposed to be straight. Pulling Cam closer still, he laid his
head on the other man’s hair and closed his eyes, replaying in his mind the
evening they had spent together. A totally, ordinary, average, run of the mill
evening of basketball and beer...

****

“Did you
see
that layup?” Cam whooped as he did his patented dance of joy.

“How
could
I see it?” Matt returned, taking another draw from the bottle of Bud in his
hand. “Your big ass was in the way.”

“Fuck you,” Cam
countered and wiggled said ass in Matt’s face for good measure before he
flopped back down onto the sofa beside him. “I don’t really have a big ass, do
I?”

“You are such a
fucking girl, Archer.” Matt stood up and waved the bottle at Cam. “You want
another beer?”

“You didn’t
answer my question,” Cam pouted.

“No, I didn’t
and I’m not going to,” Matt laughed, shaking his head at the other man in
disbelief. “I have no desire to discuss your ass now, or at any point in, oh,
forever. So I repeat do you want another beer?”

“Does a bear
shit in the woods?” Cam replied, swiveling his hips on the sofa and arching his
back so he could look at his own ass. “It’s not fucking big,” he griped,
slapping his hand onto a firm cheek. “Teresa likes it!”

“Teresa has no
taste,” Matt fired back from where he was opening more bottles of Bud in the
kitchen. “The fact that she’s dating you in the first place just proves my
point.”

“Yeah, right,”
Cam snorted, taking the bottle from Matt as the other man sank back onto the
cushions and propped his feet on the coffee table. “’Cos Angela picked an
absolute peach when she said yes to
you
.”

“You bet your
big fat ass, she did!” Matt chuckled heartily at his own joke and side-swiped
the hand that Cam slapped at him. “What are we watching now?”

“Shaun of the
Dead.” Cam grinned, opening the DVD case and crawling on his hands and knees
over to the player. He chuckled at the sound of Matt’s groan. “Don’t be such a
bitch.”

“Dude, we have
seen that movie a million fucking times.” Matt took another healthy draw from
his bottle of Bud and kicked off his high tops before putting his feet up on
the coffee table. “Can’t we watch something else?”

Cam snorted and
inserted the disc, closed the tray and crawled back to the sofa. Heaving
himself up onto the cushions, he grabbed the remote and pressed play. “We
watched what you wanted to watch, and now it’s my turn. Friday night rules,
man.”

“But I didn’t
see the final shot ‘cos of your ass and that stupid dance,” Matt complained.

“You agreed to
the Friday night rules in tenth grade, dude,” Cam replied, lazily picking the
label off his bottle while he waited for the movie to start. He turned his head
to grin at Matt and knew by the sigh his best friend heaved, that he had him.
Licking his forefinger, he drew an imaginary line in the air then pointed at
his own chest and winked.

“Bite me,” Matt
replied and settled against the arm of the sofa, mumbling beneath his breath.
“Friday night rules, my ass.” He rolled his eyes as he took in the childish
glee on Cam’s face in the glow of the TV. It was an expression he had seen too
many times to count. In fact, he vaguely recalled Cam wearing the same one on
the day they’d met. Of course, then it had been over the huge ice cream cone he
was holding in his hand, while he tried to chase the chocolate sauce dribbling
down his chin with his tongue.